


Of Course

by lovelyskies



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyskies/pseuds/lovelyskies
Summary: The warmth of the room, the refreshing wine, and the steaming food wash away the evening chill. Joxter knows when someone is watching him, and he feels Muddler’s gaze burn into his skin. He sets down his utensil, a small smile turning up from the corners of his mouth. Two can play this game.His paws drop below the table, the tips of his nails brushing along the outside of Muddler’s thigh. He chokes on his dessert, spoon falling onto the table.
Relationships: Joxaren | The Joxter/Rådd-djuret | The Muddler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Of Course

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostigos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostigos/gifts).



> thank u for opening my eyes to this ship. sorry this ain't fluff KJLADSKJLAD

Fuzzy stands slightly out of the line of crops, white hat clamped on her head. In her hands is an oversized lettuce, its pale leaves becoming undone in the dense air. She stares off at something, perhaps the sunset, perhaps the flattened circle of flowers.

A feeling of uneasiness hits her like it often does. But this time is different, a heavier pit grows in her stomach.

She calls her husband’s name, her head glued to the red hat sticking from the patch. Muddler comes running from the back door, paws dripping with soapy water. His wife doesn’t have to say anything, for he already sees the past come back to him with a single color.

The evening wind blows on the strands of his hair, lifting what was once slicked down. Despite the brightness of the sun, his eyes aren’t crinkled. His hair was painted with a brush, barely dipped into the stain – leaving it a thinned black wash.

“Joxter,” Muddler manages to gasp before his heart ceases to beat- the same heart that held a fierce fixation for the man all those years ago.

The other’s bent leg stops dangling. If it weren’t for the smile plastered on his face, it would be impossible to tell what he’s thinking. “There you are,” he whispers, head-turning away from the sun. He opens one eye.

The seared past they shared, the extinguished future which they won’t. It doesn’t matter at that moment. When had the Muddler forgotten the depth of those stunning eyes? The richness of his laugh? Like a record reaching its end, suppose its music faded and the memories grew silent.

And yet, how easy a record can be dusted off and played again.

“O-Oh.” Fuzzy reaches the slumped figure. The small pit now weighing her down like a cement block. “It’s you.” _You_ , she says, as if she hadn’t remembered his name. How could she ever forget? Not with her husband’s constant reminders. But why is he to show up now? It’s best not to judge subjects you can’t understand, really.

“One and only.” He dumps out his pipe and shows off some of his teeth in a grin. “I was wondering what crazy fools would live out here. Should’ve known.”

Muddler laughs, much too loudly. His wife frowns, not seeing the humor.

“Well, you must like it! The solitude, the falls, you’ve always loved this sort of thing, haven’t you?” Muddler feels something then, something dimly forgotten. A sense of excitement, like his heart could leap out of his chest at any moment. He fidgets with his paw, a terrible habit, awaiting his response.

Joxter hops up, stretching his back before replying, “Do you?” He isn’t looking at his friend.

She looks at her husband confused. “ _Me_?” Well, she’s never really been asked that. “…Of course.” That is what one is supposed to say, yes? Not that she’d rather be in the town. Where loneliness could easily be solved with a quick trip to the market. No, no. A wife isn’t to say that is she?

“Of course…” Joxter repeats, nodding. 

“Wh-Why don’t you come inside? We were just about to have dinner.”

He raises a brow. “I won’t be a bother?”

“You? _Never_!” Muddler grabs ahold of his thin sleeve and pulls him toward the cottage. “This place is yours to return to any time. Oh, but you don’t like that sort of thing. I’ll tell you what – break in anytime!”

Joxter laughs, feeling his chest lighten.

The home is filled with flowers, collectibles, a lounge couch in front of a fireplace, and large cabinets showing off pots and dishes. Inside the kitchen sits a bubbling pot of stew and some vegetables sitting in the sink.

The two sit in the living room, recalling times long ago without talk of the present. And when dinner is served, the conversation continues. The wine only makes the men louder, becoming breathless with laughter.

The warmth of the room, the refreshing wine, and the steaming food wash away the evening chill. Joxter knows when someone is watching him, and he feels Muddler’s gaze burn into his skin. He sets down his utensil, a small smile turning up from the corners of his mouth. _Two can play this game._

His paws drop below the table, the tips of his nails brushing along the outside of Muddler’s thigh. He chokes on his dessert, spoon falling onto the table.

“Dear me! Are you alright?” Fuzzy jumps from her chair, nearly causing the thing to tip over.

He waves her off, sipping from his glass. Joxter left his hand there, hiding the laughter brewing inside. After a deep breath, Muddler dropped his paw as well, skimming across the other.

It isn’t until Fuzzy turns it in for the night, leaving the two along in the living room, that their heartbeats slow. The square heater sitting near the couch moans like a beast; its bright red coils flickering. Joxter stares, not caring enough to turn it off.

Muddler lifts his light, soft palm. “Are you hot?” His paw finding a home on the other shoulder.

They knew what could, what _would_ happen if others caught them. He’s not afraid of anything, not his own coffin. Yet, when Muddler stands to switch off the heater, Joxter feels no guilt for grabbing his waist on pulling him on his bony lap.

The smaller squeals - surprised more than anything. “S-Sorry!” His face reddens unable to look at those piercing eyes. “I must have tripped!” He tries to peel himself away, but the arm around his stomach tightens its grip.

“Not leaving me again are you, bun?” Joxter’s hot breath tickles his large ears. That voice has some soaking wet dryness to it, one dripping with _wanting._ His unkempt chin dares to rub against the frail ears.

Muddler knees collapse, giving way into his arms. “I…” he breathes, not trusting his own words, 

“Never again. I’m not leaving you.” He reaches down and places his paw onto the ones sheltering his waist.

Joxter loses his grip to press a palm against palm, his rough, callused fingers slowly closing against Muddler’s frail, soft ones.

Muddler initiates the kiss. He had traced his free paw across his prickly cheek, touching the line of his sharp jaw ever so lightly. Then, like it was the simplest thing in the world, had kissed him as he had lifetimes ago.

The vagabond made a pleased sound against his wet lips, relaxing back into the couch. His hat falls to the floor, but that’s the last thing on his mind. All he can think of is that body leaning into his, the heat barely pressing between his legs.

Just as quickly as it came, it left – Muddler removes himself. Joxter fluttered his eyes open, confused and already missing the touch. 

Muddler slides a thumb against Joxter’s chapped, half-parted lips. He eases the tip between the rim, feeling his tongue brushing against it. He removes himself from Joxter, kneeling on the carpet. His shaky hands undo the fastenings on Joxter’s aged belt, leather cracking like mountain ridges. Joxter lets out a small, admiring chuckle as he runs his hand through the other’s hair. Muddler leans forward into the touch, kissing him once more till he hears the other’s breathing hitch as his pants slip below his knees. A paw smooths out the fabric of Joxter’s trousers.

Joxter can feel the smile mashing with his own grow, and as those sneaky fingers moved across the seam, he can’t help but made a small noise of pleasure. His body shivers. By Groke, what a tease. The curious paw skims across the lower portion of his belly, below the navel. Then, as gentle as he were, a tip brushes across Joxter’s cock.

His head flops back, a small moan escaping as he reaches out to run his paws through Muddler’s hair. Being sure not to unleash his claws onto his large, delicate ears.

Having teased enough to his liking, Muddler freed the other of his restricting cloth. He meets his gaze as he bends and brings the head to his lips, kissing as softly as he did before. Joxter’s eyes fall shut as Muddler takes the crown fully into his small mouth. Of course, it feels _marvelous_ – the tight, slickness so hot and welcoming all the same. But, even better, is when he opens his eyes to see his friend’s head dip, his cheeks pink and lips glistening with wetness.

Muddler slowly pulls off with a wet _pop_ that caused Joxter to bite his lips, not wanting to moan any louder. He kisses the underside and follows until he reaches the dark curls at the root, then back again. Joxter rubs the back of his ear as he touches the tip with his tongue, then tracing the head before diving back in.

“Oh how I’ve missed this,” Joxter moans slow, deep, “how I’ve missed _you_.”

“Did you?” Muddler blushes at the compliment. He licks the tip again, causing the other to jerk in his grip. Suppose that answers that.

“ _Of course.”_ His claws dig into the upholstered arm of the couch. “W-Why don’t we-?”

Not letting him finish his thought, Muddler rises onto his knees so he can meet the other’s face for a kiss. “Yes,” he replies, “Let’s.” 

Joxter lets him guide him down onto the couch, stripping his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. Muddler takes off his waistcoat without care and brings his shirt over his head. The other’s paws trace up his stomach to his chest as he struggles to free himself of the cloth. His claws barely grace the light curls leading to his waist.

Muddler leans into his touch, shivering. Then, he’s seized by the desire those chapped lips once more, to feel their bodies move against each other. Joxter bites the other lip, his hand trailing up his back. Muddler slides his mouth to his neck, kissing his collarbone and the hollow of his throat.

Their bodies fit perfectly, the heat of each other’s skin becoming one, their chests rubbing.

Joxter slides a paw down so he can stroke Muddler’s cock. His stomach does a flip, nerves and excitement bubbling. He buries his face into the neck he bruised, partially to drown out the moaning, partially to hide his surely red face.

The scent of the other, musky and steeping of tobacco – the taste of his skin is more than enough to put him over the edge. But, he’s not lazy like the other. He wants both parties to have a splendid time. So, he snakingly reaches down and eases the other paw off his cock.

Their fingers tangle together above Joxter’s head, their lips sloppily mashing. Muddler thrusts against Joxter’s body, rubbing hard until he begins to squirm, gasping moans into his mouth.

Eventually, Joxter regains enough strength to thrust up against him too. His paw lowers and settles on Muddler’s ass, gripping tight.

Joxter shuts his eyes, pressure building urgently as Muddler begins to roll his hips. Seeing he had to be close, Muddler grabs ahold of both cocks, pumping. Joxter murmurs low words, full of want and affection.

Joxter came first, shaking as it shoots up to his chest in thick ropes. It only takes a few more pumps, coupled with the view of the other coming undone, for Muddler to come, adding to the puddle on Joxter’s stomach.

They both feel boneless, lightheaded, and all in all, exhausted. Muddler collapses to lay limp on Joxter’s side, catching his breath.

After Muddler returns with some washcloths, they clean themselves up and change into some nightclothes. Both bodies felt heavy, sleep sure to come fast. It’s honestly a surprise Joxter didn’t pass out as soon as he finished.

Muddler climbs back onto the purring chest, stretching before tucking his arms around him. Joxter kisses the top of his head, whispering a quiet, “ _Goodnight_.” 


End file.
